


I can't go back

by makesometime



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Japan Arc (Rusty Quill Gaming), M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: Oscar sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He stops so that his shadow won’t be visible through the door to his office, deciding to listen for a bit. It’s one thing to know people are always talking behind his back. Hearing it is something different.
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 24
Kudos: 55





	I can't go back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



> Happy birthday Miri! Today's been a Day, so I hope that this makes you smile a little at the end of it. 
> 
> Have some soft boys in love, worrying about each other and loving each other very very much.

He doesn’t expect them to get along. They’re too similar in ways. Entirely too different in others.

He also expects that whatever fumbling, undefined relationship he and Zolf have fallen into, desperate in the face of the loss of everyone they knew, longing, yearning and loving each other’s all too willing contact… will naturally spoil whatever nascent connection was building with Grizzop all the way back in Damascus.

He is… mostly… happy to be proven wrong.

“He’s not eating again.”

Oscar sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He stops so that his shadow won’t be visible through the door to his office, deciding to listen for a bit. It’s one thing to know people are always talking behind his back. Hearing it is something different.

“You noticed that huh?”

Oscar can practically hear the weariness in Zolf’s voice. It aches at that place in his chest that he’s not particularly adept at exploring.

“If he doesn’t eat, he’ll get weak. We can’t afford to be carrying him.”

“Grizzop.” Zolf’s voice is quiet, but firm. “I understand. Trust me. But you need to trust _him_.”

“Yeah. Course.” Grizzop replies, quiet too. “Just worried.”

They’re silent for long enough that Oscar starts to feel bad about lurking, so he shakes his shoulders and walks on as if he’s just been making his way from the bathroom all along.

He does a good enough job of it that neither Grizzop or Zolf look up when he walks into the office. He stops almost in the doorway anyway, something about the sight of them curled up together in front of the fire making his heart do a fierce pitter-pat.

What sort of luck is it, that here, at the end of the world, he’s found not one but _two_ partners, who care about each other as much as he cares about them? What has he done in his life to deserve this, here, now? He’s certain that there’s nothing he can think of. Oscar Wilde hasn’t led the sort of life that deals him this set of cards.

“What are you frowning about?”

He startles, looking at the way Grizzop’s eyes are narrowed in unabashed suspicion. “Nothing!”

“See. This is what happens when he doesn’t eat. Gets all weird and introspective.” Grizzop says to Zolf, far more than to him, turning back to his book. “Don’t like it.”

Zolf chuckles, all warm and fond, his hand stroking over the length of Grizzop’s ear tenderly. “Yeah well you’ve not had to deal with eighteen months of this. You get used to it.”

“You know.” Oscar says, brightly, smiling through any irritation. “It’s not polite to talk about someone as if they’re not in the room.”

Zolf gives him a little frown, looking as if he’s going to get up, fuss over him. Oscar denies to himself that he’d like that, that his body is missing the feeling of Zolf’s hands on his skin in whatever way he is lucky enough to receive…

Instead, he waves them off and takes the other chair at the fire, stretching his legs out towards the flames.

“Can I get you anything?” Zolf murmurs, setting his book down on the side table. “A drink maybe?”

He forces down the instinctive desire to say no.

“I don’t suppose there’s any leftovers from dinner?” Oscar asks, folding a hand over his stomach as if he can quiet its sudden and impolite grumbling.

It’s worth it to ask, to see Zolf’s face light up a bit, to see the relief on both his and Grizzop’s faces. It’s not as if he does any of this to worry them. There’s just so much, always, and he’s the only one who can do most of it…

“I’ll get you a plate.” Zolf says, already on his feet.

As he’s walking past, Oscar catches his wrist, pulling him in to give him a gentle, grateful kiss. He feels Zolf’s lips quirk against his, the warmth of a palm against his cheek…. and then Zolf’s gone, intent on fulfilling his request before he can back out of it.

Grizzop hops out of the chair and wanders across to him once Zolf’s left the room. They both look at him in such a similar way sometimes that it makes his breath catch. It’s a healer’s care _(ironic that both of his partners are able to undo the worst of his behaviours, or another stroke of luck?_ ) but it comes with a touch of annoyance, that their divinely held powers are being used to save such a foolish man from himself.

“I don’t do it on purpose you know.”

Grizzop smiles, reaching out to place his hand in Oscar’s. “Knew you were eavesdropping.”

“I never claimed to be stealthy.”

“It’s okay. You know that? To let us look after you?”

Oscar tips his head to the side. “That sounds suspect, but perhaps I can see some sense in it.”

He’s never met anyone who can roll their eyes with quite the same amount of derision as Grizzop. It’s really quite impressive.

“Why do I love you?”

It still makes him flush, to hear it so plain. Settles the ache in his chest as well as if Grizzop had healed him.

“I cannot even begin to imagine.” Oscar says, pulling him closer, parting his legs so that Grizzop can press up against his chest, a warm comfort on an otherwise unremarkable night. “But know that I am grateful, always.”


End file.
